TF141

The safehouse had finally settled into the quiet that only came after a long operation.

Rain tapped steadily against the windows, turning the city outside into a blur of grey reflections. The lights inside were kept low, warm enough to make the place feel less like a military safehouse and more like somewhere people actually lived.

Price had claimed the armchair near the window, one ankle resting over his knee as he read through a report on his tablet. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the faint scars and weathered hands of someone who had spent far too many years in the field. Every so often, he took a slow sip from the mug sitting beside him.

Gaz was sprawled across one end of the sofa, phone in hand, occasionally glancing up whenever the others started talking. He looked considerably more relaxed than he had during the mission, though the faint tiredness around his eyes hadn't escaped Price's notice.

Ghost occupied the other side of the room.

He sat in the armchair opposite Price, dressed in dark civilian clothes, his mask nowhere to be seen for once. His arms were folded loosely across his chest, long legs stretched out in front of him. He wasn't doing anything in particular.

At least, that's what it looked like.

He was listening to everything.

And then there was Soap.

“Right, I'm just sayin'—”

“No,” Gaz interrupted without looking up.

Soap stopped in the doorway.

“I haven't even finished.”

“Didn't need to.”

Soap stared at him for a second before looking toward Price.

“Captain.”

Price didn't look up from his tablet.

“Don't involve me.”

“See? This is what I deal with.”

Ghost's voice came quietly from across the room.

“Your own fault.”

Soap pointed at him.

“See, that's exactly the attitude I'm talkin' about.”

The corner of Ghost's mouth twitched. Barely. But Soap noticed.

“Oh, don't you start smirking at me.”

“Wasn't.”

“You were.”

“Prove it.”

Gaz finally lowered his phone, looking between them.

“You two are exhausting.”

“Aye, but ye love us.”

Gaz sighed.

“Unfortunately.”

Price finally lowered the tablet, giving the three of them a long, tired look.

“Children.”

“I'm older than Gaz,” Soap protested.

“Didn't say you weren't.”

A small silence followed.,Then Price's attention shifted toward you. His expression softened almost imperceptibly.

“There you are.”

The others followed his gaze. Gaz gave you an easy smile and moved slightly across the sofa, making room without needing to say anything.

“Come sit down. It's miserable outside.”

Soap immediately brightened.

“Finally. Someone sensible.”

Ghost simply watched you for a moment before giving a quiet nod.

“Evening.”

There was no awkwardness in the room, nor hesitation.

Whatever the four of them had built together over the years was clearly well-established—a strange mixture of partnership, friendship, loyalty, and affection that didn't need to be explained every time you walked through the door.

Price set his tablet aside.

“Long day?”

His voice was quieter now. The rain continued against the windows. For once, there was nowhere any of you needed to be. No mission waiting. No orders. Just the four men who had somehow become one another's home.

The safehouse had finally settled into the quiet that only came after a long operation.

Rain tapped steadily against the windows, turning the city outside into a blur of grey reflections. The lights inside were kept low, warm enough to make the place feel less like a military safehouse and more like somewhere people actually lived.

all five of you had ended up on the same big bed as usual.. bundled beneath the blankets in a cramped little heap. There was hardly any room to shift without bumping into someone, but nobody seemed particularly bothered, well, Soap being the one who refuses to acknowledge personal space that takes up whole space. Though, The room was warm, quiet, and comfortable enough that moving elsewhere felt like too much effort

Soap being the one sprawled across everyone like he personally owns the mattress. Somehow has an arm around somebody, likely you and is complaining that there's “no bloody room.” Gaz was wedged somewhere in the middle, his head resting comfortably against your shoulder. Price occupied the edge of the bed, staring up at the ceiling with the resigned expression of a man who had long since accepted that this was simply his life now. Ghost had somehow managed to take up an unreasonable amount of space despite barely moving at all. And you? You were effectively trapped in the middle of the human pile, unable to escape without waking at least three people. For several minutes, nobody said anything. Then Soap shifted slightly, somehow making the situation even more cramped.

“See? Told ye we could all fit.”

“We very clearly cannot,” Price grumbled, though the faint amusement in his voice gave him away.

“He's delusional,” Ghost muttered.

“At least he's happy,” Gaz replied.

“Exactly.”

Soap smiled smugly, apparently considering the matter settled. Another few seconds of silence passed.

“...Johnny.”

“Aye?”

“Your elbow is in my ribs.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Didn't notice.”

Price slowly turned his head.

“You're doing it deliberately.”

“Maybe.”

Gaz let out a quiet laugh against your shoulder.

“You're impossible.”

“Yet nobody's left.”

That earned a brief silence.,Ghost glanced toward the others.

“Because there's nowhere to go.”

Soap's grin widened.

“Exactly.”

The safehouse had grown almost completely silent.

Outside, the rain continued to fall, soft against the windows. The storm had settled into something gentle now, more like background noise than anything worth noticing. Inside, the five of you remained tangled together on the bed.

At first, it had been nothing unusual. Soap had complained about being cold and stolen half the blanket. Gaz had moved closer simply because there wasn't enough room. Price had eventually given up pretending he wasn't comfortable. Ghost had said absolutely nothing and somehow ended up joining the pile anyway. But somewhere along the way, the joking had stopped.

Soap's usual restless energy had faded. His head rested against your shoulder, his breathing slow and even. One arm remained loosely around you, not gripping, just there—a quiet reminder that he was comfortable enough to let himself relax.,Gaz had gone quiet too. His head rested against you, eyes half-lidded as he stared vaguely toward the ceiling.

“Bit quiet tonight,” he murmured.

“Mm.”

*Price glanced toward the three of you.>

“Long day.”

That was all he said.

Ghost remained silent at the other side of the bed. Yet there was something different about him tonight. His shoulders weren't tense. His expression had softened. For once, he wasn't watching the door, listening for footsteps, or thinking several moves ahead.

He was simply there. Soap shifted slightly.

“Don't move.”

You looked down at him.

“Why?”

“Because I'm comfortable.”

His voice was quieter than usual.

“And I'm tired.”

Gaz gave a sleepy little laugh.

“That's the closest he's getting to admitting he wants cuddles.”

“Shut it.”

“You're literally holding onto them.”

“I know.”

There was no embarrassment in his answer. That somehow made the room quieter.nPrice looked toward Soap for a moment, then toward the rest of you.

“Suppose we could all use the rest.”

Ghost's gaze lowered.

“Yeah.”

Just one word. But it carried more weight than usual. For people who spent so much of their lives being alert, guarded, and prepared for the worst, moments like this were strange. No weapons within reach, nor radios, nor orders, nor expectations that anyone had to be the strongest person in the room. Just five exhausted people sharing warmth beneath too many blankets.*

Soap's fingers shifted slightly against your sleeve.

“...Don't mind this, do ye?”

The question was unusually hesitant.,Gaz looked toward you too, quieter now.

“Think we're all just a bit worn out.”

Price gave a small nod.

“Nothing wrong with that.”

Ghost finally spoke from beside you.

“Can stay like this.”

A pause.

“As long as you want.”

The words were simple, almost awkward coming from him. But somehow, that made them feel more sincere.

Soap relaxed again, his eyes closing.

“Good.”

Gaz settled more comfortably against your shoulder.

“Yeah.”

Price leaned back into the pillows, finally allowing himself to rest. Ghost pulled the blanket a little higher over everyone. And just like that, the five of you became quiet again.

No one needed to explain anything. For tonight, nobody had to be a captain, a sergeant, a lieutenant, or a soldier. You were just five people who had made it home. And for once, that was enough.